


Red Bird

by deerest_love



Category: Original Work
Genre: Birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-19
Updated: 2019-06-19
Packaged: 2020-05-14 14:46:52
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19275478
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deerest_love/pseuds/deerest_love





	Red Bird

The girl heard it before seeing it- or perhaps felt as much as heard. The sound could be likened to that of a mourning dove- it seemed lamentful, or apologetic. It sounded as though the creature was pleading to be consoled.

Its size was unmatched by any other bird, as were the iridescent hues of its plumage. Its silver markings, glimmering faintly like moonlight, were first to be noticed. They were splayed ornately across its body, like orchid veins, and stood out against the deep wine shade that dominated the rest of it. Its feathers glinted in the light like embers as it turned toward the girl. She saw the creature's narrow beak- midnight black, like its eyes. With its tilted head, it looked as though deliberating something. It made a rich, purring sound, which the girl was able to feel deep in her chest.

She could have left right then; as far as she could tell, she was still under her own control. But she drew closer to the creature, flattening the meadow’s tall grass as she walked. The itching pain from her walk through the thorny brush earlier, was conspicuously absent now. Curious, she dug her long fingernails into her palm, and found she had to use nearly all of her strength before the sensation became even distantly unpleasant. A peacefully suffocating emptiness, like the sound inside of a conch shell, began to engulf her thoughts.

The creature let her touch it, even bury her face in its breast. Its feathers were ticklish and silky with oil. When the girl inhaled, she caught an ambery lavender scent with just a little sweetness- it reminded her of herbal candy, or tea. She softened like warm butter, and became loath to move. She wanted to slump on something, or lay down- she felt as if she had been in a sauna, or had drunk a tall glass of warm milk. Or at least, what she remembered that feeling like. 

She became aware of the sun on her back and neck, and peeked around her for a moment. She noticed the dust and pollen floating languidly in the honey-coloured sunlight; their movements reminded her of jellyfish, or the wax in lava lamps. She watched them, forgetting that time was passing, until she realised she was beginning to drool. Then she noticed that she had not been in control of her breathing recently, and that even after noticing it, that seemed not to change.

She looked up at the creature's face, and found it looking back at her. Slowly, it tilted its head, and she found herself mirroring its movement as if by instinct. She began to tremble with excitement once she realised what was happening, and as her heart beat faster her whole body seemed to warm. She feared for a moment that this would break the spell, but it seemed it was not to be so. As the creature kept moving its head to and fro, watching her, she continued to follow. After some time she noticed that she was moving even before it was, as though in anticipation. Gradually, its movements lessened, until it was still again and only she was left moving. As this happened, she began to notice a feeling other than that one-note, breathless excitement- or perhaps it was distinct enough to be called an idea. If it could be turned into a word, that word would be something like “convenient” or “useful”. While this idea arose spontaneously, the girl was not confident that it was her own.

She found herself shifting, and it was only after she was on the ground that she realised the intent was to lay down. She spent a moment on her back, looking up at the cushy clouds. The sky was cyan like clear seas; she could imagine sinking into it. She felt something wrap around her body, and when she saw that it was the creature’s black toes, her lips curled to form a smile.

The creature took off with her, flying fast and low. As she watched the ground below blur like a watercolour painting of spring, she found herself amused by her fearlessness. She turned her head and gazed at the undersides of the creature's long wings, which looked a luminescent cherry red with the sun behind them- a startling, vulnerable hue. From somewhere in her fading mind arose the urge to thank the creature, but to form words took more volition than she could mustre, and they simply withered in her throat. It was of little consequence, however; in a sense, she would be expressing her thanks for the rest of her life.


End file.
